


A Night Inside

by VelveetaKing



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feather pulling, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Mild Gore, Not Beta Read, Scratching, Self-Harm, could make people squirmish, i guess, oh well, time to project myself onto ducks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27653767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelveetaKing/pseuds/VelveetaKing
Summary: Launchpad was beginning to regret his habit of forgetting to knock. He opened the door to see Drake gripping at the sink, white downy feathers lay about the tile floor and countertop.
Relationships: Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	A Night Inside

**Author's Note:**

> I sure do love having break downs an then doing duck anatomy research. Anywho, pin/blood feathers are simply underdeveloped feathers that are still connected to the bloodstream, unlike fully grown feathers. Because of this they are very sensitive

Blood, scattered feathers, shaking hands and stained fingernails. Drake stares at Launchpad from the bathroom sink, startled and puffy-eyed.  
Launchpad was beginning to regret his habit of forgetting to knock. He opened the door to see Drake gripping at the sink, white downy feathers lay about the tile floor and countertop. He whipped around at the sound of the door, locking eyes with the taller duck. Launchpad stumbles for a moment, eyes drifting down to Drake’s bloodied chest. Patches of feathers were missing and scratches criss-crossed about the exposed skin, leaving angry red welts. Launchpad wanted to leave it alone and assume that he was simply patching up a wound from a scrap during patrol, but he knew better. They hadn’t been on patrol that night and the red-brown stains stuck under Drake’s fingernails were apparent. Launchpad was unsure what to do, Drake shook in place and was beginning to break under the heavy silence.  
“uh...Do you..wanna be left alone?” Launchpad’s voice breaks as he asks, otherwise frozen in the doorway. Drake flounders in place, his rigid posture softening a bit in thought. He slowly looks over the messy room, then over his own body and hands. He shakes his head, not looking back up to say anything.  
“Would you like some help?” Launchpad steps into the cramped space, closing the door behind him.  
“Yeah.” Drake whispers, voice drained from the tears shed. He allows for Launchpad to guide him onto the lidded toilet, closing his eyes as the pilot swipes his thumbs across Drake’s cheeks. He slumps over himself, tired and limp as Launchpad gathers the first aid supplies stored throughout the cabinets. He tries his best not to count the feathers he comes across.  
He sits himself on the edge of the tub, the lack of space forcing them to bump knees. He dumps his collection of supplies on the floor next to him, keeping a hold of a wet washcloth. Drake still hasn't opened his eyes, seeming to just focus on keeping his breathing even as Launchpad touches his shoulder in warning. Pressing the cloth to his chest, Drake flinches and squeezes his eyes as a couple more tears slip down his face.  
“Sorry…” Launchpad says quietly, wiping away both the fresh and clotted blood as gently as possible. Broken feathers still hung around the pink patches, most of them could simply be removed to make way for new ones to grow but this clearly wasn’t the first time this had happened. Previously growing pin feathers had been broken, producing fresh blood that quickly stained Drake’s torso and Launchpad’s cloth. Tossing the fabric into the sink with a slap, he picks up a dry one and a pair of tweezers.  
“i'm gonna take out the regular ones first, but the others are really gonna sting, Okay, DW?” He leans over to catch Drake’s attention, putting a hand on the other’s knee. He meets Launchpad’s eyes and nods, taking his hand and squeezing it.  
“Here,” Launchpad puts Drake’s hand up on his shoulder. “Hold on here while I take em out.”  
“Okay.” His voice was still scratchy but it was getting better. Gripping the green fabric of Launchpad's t-shirt, Drake looked away as he worked.  
As a crash-prone person, Launchpad was well practiced when it came to first-aid. With quick flicks of his wrists, the snapped and frayed feathers joined the collection on the tile. They had only earned some slight jumps from drake, but his grip tightened as he reached the blood feathers. WIth a yelp, launchpad yanks one out and quickly presses a cloth to the wound; preparing tape a gauze and tape to replace it. Three more plucked pin feathers later, Drake is leaning heavily on launchpad and breathing heavily. Breaking feathers like that can make you lose blood a lot faster than a regular wound since they’re directly connected to the bloodstream. He should really get Drake to bed and try to get him to eat something. Which is usually difficult in times like this.  
After bandaging up the scratches, Launchpad uncurls the fisted hand in his shirt and cleans the dried brown blood from drake’s hands with a warm towel. With each finished hand, Launchpad brings it up to plant a kiss on it. Drake begins to tremble again and Launchpad worries for a moment that he made the wrong decision.  
“Thank you…” Drake says, sniffling and teary-eyed again as Launchpad looks up..  
“It’s no problem..” He presses a kiss to Drake’s temple and stands up, guiding the smaller duck up and out of the bathroom into their bedroom. Setting a worn-out Drake on the bed, launchpad digs for one of his baggy t-shirts. It’s more likely not to irritate his chest and he’s told launchpad before how comfortable his clothes make him feel.  
Moving his arms up to put on the shirt caused him to hiss out in pain for a moment before handling his head into the collar and smoothing out the fabric. Launchpad nudges him under the blankets and lays down next to him, holding the other in his arms. He can feel drake sigh and melt into the pillows as he runs his hand up and down his back until they both drift off to sleep.


End file.
